April 5
If you decide to stop at the broken city of Anger along your ride,
You will find that your visits are always accompanied by the
Beginnings of an unforgiving storm.
The hot and humid air will feel like weights placed on your shoulders,
Dragging you down lower and lower.
The firm gusts of wind will push and pull at you,
Begging for your attention, in hopes of slowing you down.
The sky will let out deep and painful groans, shaking the unstable ground
Crumbling beneath your feet.
But you must keep pushing on.
As you continue, you will come across a deserted town.
And although buildings are rotting from neglect, abandoned and sorrowful,
Shattered glass and garbage litter the ground,
And overgrown weeds twist and pull at your feet,
You will not be repelled by its unsightliness.
Instead, this broken and miserable dwelling
Will feel safe, comfortable.
You will wish to stay and wither away in this pitiful place.
But you cannot, because those who stay here
Will also die here.
Hatred and self pity will fill their hearts,
Like a glass filled to the brim,
And one day, they will overflow.
So leave quickly, keep your visit brief.
And continue moving forward.
No comments:
Post a Comment